


Marked

by Tolazytopickaname



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Cupping, Dom Draco Malfoy, Exhibitionism, F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Sex Games, Spanking, Sub Hermione Granger, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:00:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29751012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tolazytopickaname/pseuds/Tolazytopickaname
Summary: It felt wrong to be there - like she was trespassing on private property. Like she was standing in Diagon Alley long before the shops opened. No - perhaps not Diagon Alley. Perhaps Knockturn Alley was a better fit. Knockturn Alley in broad daylight. The cats waiting, hidden, for darkness to fall and the mice to scurry out of sight. Hermione felt very much like a mouse.Hermione saw a shimmer and the doorhandle appeared. 8PM. The cats were waking up. Hermione strode forward and opened the door.*Tags will be updated as chapters are added.*
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 91





	1. Cat and Mouse

Hermione stared at the white building. It was industrial. One story. Featureless. Impersonal. With white paneling, a flat metal roof and a single white metal door at the top of concrete steps. The door had no handle. 

She glanced at her watch -- 7:59pm. Still another hour of daylight left, but the structure appeared as vacant as the dead of night. There was no sign and no name on the building. No indication of its purpose. It could have been a warehouse. Or perhaps a garage - though no vehicle could fit through the small single doorway. 

It felt wrong to be there - like she was trespassing on private property. Like she was standing in Diagon Alley long before the shops opened. No - perhaps not Diagon Alley. Perhaps Knockturn Alley was a better fit. Knockturn Alley in broad daylight. The cats waiting, hidden, for darkness to fall and the mice to scurry out of sight. Hermione felt very much like a mouse. 

Hermione saw a shimmer and the doorhandle appeared. 8PM. The cats were waking up. Hermione strode forward and opened the door.

________________________________________________________________________

The small entryway was nearly empty and eerily quiet. Surrounded by thick black curtains hung across every wall. A single plain folding table, silver chair and filing cabinet filled the tiny space. Hermione's heart pounded as she took a step towards the table and called out, "Hello?"

A tall woman appeared out from the curtain behind the table and Hermione jumped. The room beyond was shrouded in darkness.

"I'm so sorry to have scared you! There's usually no-one here right at opening. Something about the daylight keeps people away." The woman rubbed the back of her neck, sheepishly. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. Hermione twisted her hands in front of her, nervously, "I can… I can come back. Later I mean. I didn't realize…."

"Of course not! Someone always has to be first and today it's you! Let's get you signed in. You're new, right? Who's your sponsor?"

Hermione shook her head," I don't have a sponsor." She paused, fumbling over her words anxiously.

"There was a group… at the Leaky Cauldron? I overheard and I thought…. I could come by. I didn't realize-."Her memory replayed a feminine commanding voice drifting from the booth behind her this morning. "Absolutely confidential." "Safe space to explore." "Can just observe." She thought it was an open invitation... But maybe she had it wrong? 

"Oh, you're with the munch! I'm surprised you walked in on your own. New people normally aren't brave enough to come in by themselves!" She laughed. And Hermione nodded her head, relieved

The woman pulled a set of forms out of the filing cabinet and handed Hermione a quill. "That's our magically binding non-disclosure agreement and the rules of the club. You'll need to read and sign each page. Anything and anyone you see here is confidential. We take privacy very seriously- If you'd like to come back, I do recommend that you try to make some friends this evening- you'll need a sponsor for future visits." Hermione's eyes widened. So tonight was it. Once chance to decide. 

Hermione signed each document with a shaky hand. The door screeched open behind her and Hermione twitched dropping a large splotch of ink on the last page as a small group wandered in. Hermione quickly handed over her forms and the woman smiled kindly at her. "Please head on in, and feel free to explore. Welcome to Marked." She held the curtain behind the desk back for Hermione and gestured, smiling encouragingly. Hermione thanked her, and stepped behind the curtain.

The room materialized in front of her, and a low rhythm, a sort of pulsating beat, played across the space. Her heels clicked on the finished concrete floor. To her right, large paneless windows and an archway leading into a warmly lit seating area. A long black leather sectional filled the room surrounding a low glass coffee table. 

To her left a large open space. Padded benches and tables, of various heights were spread across the room. A large wooden cross filled the far corner. A wall, padded in black leather with metal eyelets dispersed across the surface. And in the center of the room stood a shiny varnished black wooden stage. A single silver bar with dainty cuffs on either end dangled from a chain in the rafters directly in the center of the stage. Leather chairs and loveseats lined faced each area, clearly meant for observers. Anxiety creeped in the back of her mind. She was out of her depth. This place was not for her.

Several people entered from the curtain behind her, and she scurried into the seating area. She took a seat on the sectional facing the windows onlooking the great room. The leather was cool on her thighs beneath her sensible pencil skirt, but her skin felt overheated. She tapped her leg nervously as people began mingling around the entrance. 

A tall, gangly man stood, orbiting a smaller, black haired woman. He seemed familiar but she couldn’t place him. She avoided eye-contact, hoping he didn’t know her. Hermione felt her skin itch as he skimmed her body. He was staring. He  _ must  _ recognize her. The black haired woman abruptly reached up and grabbed his jaw, pulling him down to face her. She spoke to him quietly and sharply. They both glanced at Hermione, and she froze. That was Pansy Parkinson. Hermione quickly looked in the other direction. 

A moment later - Hermione heard the familiar commanding voice that had drifter to her in the Leaky Cauldron. “Granger." Parkinson held out her hand and Hermione stared at it, unsure of what to do. She sighed exasperated, "I’m not going to bite. You're nervous, I get it. Can we join you?"

Hermione smiled politely at the offer and looked down at her lap. Her mind seemed to be frozen."I suppose... some company...would be appreciated." 

They joined her on the couch. “Come to play, Granger?” He leered at her and she recognized him. Theodore Nott. Her year at Hogwarts. Of course. 

Pansy and Theo were regulars, well known with most people walking in. Several people approached to say hello and Hermione’s discomfort faded as she watched them. Pansy was friendly. Nice even. She slowly relaxed into the rhythm of light chatter and introductions.

Some arrived and went straight to the great room. Hermione caught herself eyeing a couple through the seating room window - watching as the woman tied back long blond hair and lay back over a padded bench. Hermione licked her lips and craned her neck to watch around the crowd, a man stepping just into her line of sight every way she leaned. Hermione glanced up, annoyed and her jaw dropped. A smug angular face stared back at her with raised brows, under fair hair. Draco Malfoy smirked at her and her heart stuttered. Hermione realized suddenly that she was wrong about this being a cat’s hunting ground. Of course. Snakes eat mice too. Hermione squeaked. ________________________________________________________________

Surprisingly, he ignored her. Malfoy occupied the seating area for the next half hour, holding conversation with the dark haired couple next to him. They laughed, and he leaned back against the couch. Her eyes drifted to him every few minutes. 

He had rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, and strewn his arm casually across the back of the couch. Her eyes strayed to his forearm. Surprisingly bare and unblemished. A glamour maybe?

He seemed so comfortable. Like she'd never seen him in public, with the flocks of reporters around him. He was always so stone faced. An unreadable facade. His shirt, jacket, and tie always impeccably pressed. Yet he was at ease with himself and the people around him here. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and it framed the hollow of his throat. She watched his neck as he spoke, drawn to the little piece of skin, released from his usual tight control. 

She shook her head and leaned into Pansy and Theo. Maybe they could tell her about this strange persona that was fascinating her “Does all of Hogwarts know about this place? Or just the Slytherins?”

Pansy laughed and stroked Theo’s arm. “There are a few others that know about it. But I think we’re the only ones from our year.” Pansy looked smugly at Malfoy. “I recruited Malfoy as a member actually. I organize the munches, like the one you crashed today.” Pansy looked at her knowingly and Hermione blushed. “You could say I’m the unofficial liaison for fresh-meat.” She grinned ferally. 

“Is Malfoy also ‘fresh-meat’?” Hermione questioned. He didn't look it. But maybe he was like her….

Theo scoffed, “Not by a long shot. He was bending girls over his knee back at Hogwarts.” 

Pansy shot Theo a nasty look, and sniffed “Malfoy’s business is his own. We don’t gossip about people here.” The topic was clearly closed, and Hermione pursed her lips. Curiosity burning.

Hermione pictured Malfoy in the Slytherin dormitories, with his girl of the week bound in his green tie as he spanked her. The room suddenly felt warmer. She pressed her thighs together and cleared her throat. 

Pansy looked around at the small group that had congregated. A few nervous faces were interspersed within larger groups. 

“Speaking of fresh-meat….time to break the ice.” Pansy and Theo shared a wicked look. 

Pansy stood and abruptly announced, "Never have I ever! Either your in, or get out -- she pointed to the great room." Several couples exchanged a look and left for the great room, uninterested. A few of Pansy and Theo’s friends, and a second, smaller group Hermione hadn't met yet, remained. 

Draco's eyes locked with hers from across the couch, and he raised a brow at her. Hermione set her mouth and remained seated. She could do this. 

Pansy looked around the room, "House rules: you have five points." 

She flicked her wand and five tallies appeared above each person's head remaining in the room. 

"We go round the circle. On my turn If "Never have I ever" given a blowjob in a broom cupboard-"

Theo jumped in "But I  _ have _ , then I lose a tally." A mark over his head faded.

"When you're down to zero you're out of the game!" 

Pansy smiled wickedly at Hermione, "But don't worry. If you knocked them out, you can give the ousted party a proper send off."

She flourished her wand and conjured a wooden board - with a pansy punched out of the wood. Hermione's stomach dropped a few inches. Maybe she  _ couldn't  _ do this.

"I find a good paddling always makes people remember me - five swats for five points." Pansy winked at her. 

Hermione gulped and her eyes flitted to Draco, and the five tallies above his head. 

"Since Pansy so kindly outed me - I'm next." Theo laughed.

"Never have I ever fucked a centaur," Pansy lost a tally. The group stared at the petite woman and she shrugged. 

Pansy pointed at Hermione, "You're next, Granger".

She thought for a moment, looking around the room. Intimate sounds from the other room breaking through the music. Hermione brightened, "Never have I ever had sex in public". Every other player in the circle lost a tally, but they all smiled at her encouragingly. She felt Malfoy watching her, and she avoided his gaze. Face burning. She didn't think it was  _ that  _ unusual.

Theo leaned across Pansy’s lap and shifted Hermione's attention, "I'm sure that will change soon". He winked at her and she blushed. Pansy glared at him, and he immediately looked remorseful. He melted from his seat and sat on the concrete wrapping his arm around her calf and kissed her palm. Theo sufficiently supplicated, they continued. 

Several friends were playing and clearly picked on each other, exploiting their shared secrets:

"Never have I ever dressed like a french maid." 

"Never have I ever been with an Australian."

"Never have I ever been walked in on by my sister."

Pansy lost a tally nearly every other round. Hermione was the sole player with five points remaining. Her turn again, Hermione looked around. Malfoy, still had four. His casual demeanor was so different from at Hogwarts. She wanted to rile him.

"Never have I ever been punched." She smiled slyly at him, and he cheers-ed her as a tally faded. Her heart fluttered at his attention. She wanted this new Malfoy to keep looking at her. Several other player's tallies faded as well, and to her left, a blond girl stood. 

"First out! Happens every time." She sighed.

Hermione looked away from Malfoy in panic as Pansy handed her the small paddle with her signature cut out, and transfigured the glass coffee table into a small bench. She held it away from her, like it was a snake that could strike at any second. The blond unzipped her pants, pulled them to her knees, and knelt over the bench. Her entire backside was exposed in a small thong. She looked at Hermione expectantly, who gaped back at her. 

"I don't- I've never - I don't know how!" Hermione stammered. This was too much. She thought she could get away with just watching. She looked around panicked, for help. Malfoy met her eyes, still reclining casually. He seems completely unaffected. This was normal. Common even. She looked at the paddle in her hand and back at the woman in front of her.

The blond smiled at her encouragingly. 

"It's easy, just take a swing. I'm not really a pain slut though, so be gentle."

Hermione tested the paddle on her thigh experimentally, feeling the weight of it. She took a deep breath, and summoned her Gryffindor courage and stood from the couch. She approached the bench, nervously, hands shaking. She swung lightly, barely tapping the woman's skin. 

"One." she counted. "Now maybe try about ten times harder than that." She laughed and Hermione flushed with embarrassment.

Hermione swung again, harder and the paddle cracked against her backside more soundly. "Two!" she gasped. "That was perfect. Just keep doing that." Hermione flushed at the praise, at having succeeded. She glanced up to see Malfoy watching her, and flushed deeper.

Hermione swung again, and the imprint of a flower began to form on the exposed skin. "Three!"

She swung again more confidently, trying to line up the rosey imprint and the blond hissed, "Four." She panted for a moment. "Avoid hitting the same spot - it stings more."

Hermione stammered an apology and swung quickly and lightly, tapping just at the crease of her upper thigh. "Five!" The woman said brightly, and popped up, pulling up her pants. Hermione plopped back on the couch, her hands shaking slightly and her face hot. She felt Malfoy smiling widely at her as she looked in every other direction.

The game proceeded.

The dark haired woman, then her partner, lost sequentially. They took their swats good naturedly, and bowed out of the game, moving into the great room. The three friends were outed next. Followed quickly by the only other new guy. They moved away, laughing as they listened to the story that he lost with, of how he got off in his Gringotts’ vault. Soon only Pansy, Theo, Malfoy, and Hermione remained. 

"Never have I ever, had a pansy imprinted on my ass." Pansy smiled snuggly as Theo was eliminated. “That’s hardly fair, Parks.” Malfoy snickered as Theo removed his trousers and underwear readily, and Hermione tried to avoid looking at his obvious erection as he presented himself on the bench. He seemed completely at ease being exposed to his former schoolmates. 

Pansy circled him, swinging her flower printed paddle merrily as Theo’s eyes tracked her eagerly. She struck out swiftly, and a bright red flower bloomed across his cheeks. Theo curled his fingers around the bench. Pansy struck him twice more in quick succession, lining up the flower each time. Hermione realized from her lesson with the blond woman that it must have stung and winced in sympathy.

Another smack, and Theo groaned, arching backwards, his erection swaying. Hermione watched him, fascinated. It seems like he was enjoying the pain, much more than the blond had. She tried to imagine what it felt like. What the sting of the paddle would feel like against her bare skin. How it would feel to be exposed to everyone in the room. Would she like it, like Theo? Hermione swallowed and clenched her thighs. She glanced around the couch. Besides herself, only Draco and Pansy were left. Judging by the five tallies still above her head, she wasn’t likely to find out if she liked being paddled anytime soon. 

The final strike left Theo panting and Pansy wrenched him back by his hair giving him a light kiss. Hermione watched, slightly envious. Pansy turned to Hermione, hand still in Theo's hair, "This has been fun, but I'm going to have to forfeit. I have some business to attend to." She pulled Theo up and directed him into the other room. Her eyes flicked to Draco pointedly and she winked at Hermione as they left, intent on finishing what they started. 

Hermione watched through the window as they embraced. Pansy pulled Theo’s hair, exposing his throat, and she watched as Pansy devoured him with teeth and tongue. Hermione took the scene in, her lips parted in a slight sigh. Malfoy cleared his throat.

"Well, that was enlightening." He waved his wand, and the marks above their heads disappeared.

He stood, straightening his trousers. "Have a good night, Granger." The first words he had spoken to her directly. 

Hermione jerked her eyes away from the great room. He was walking away, and she would be alone here. Everyone she had met had left, or was playing in the great room, and she still hadn’t found a sponsor. She wouldn’t be allowed back in. She  _ had _ to come back. She desperately wanted to know what it felt like. To experience what Theo was experiencing. Her throat felt tight. This was her only chance. 

Hermione stood abruptly, "Malfoy!" He paused and looked over his shoulder.

Her heart thudded in her chest, like a caged thing. She let it escape, "Never have I ever been spanked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so eager to get this story out! I'm expecting around 8 chapters for this fic, and I'm hoping to update weekly. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I've enjoyed writing this! ^-^


	2. Praise and Punishment

He moved to leave the room. He was only here tonight because of Pansy. She asked for help with the munch and then abandoned him with Hermione Granger of all people. In a kink club. Alone. It wasn't like her. 

Pansy took her job orienting the 'fresh meat' seriously. She wouldn't have left Granger alone without a purpose, even with their history. Especially the way she looked tonight. Her sensible pencil skirt and high necked blouse shouted "Ministry Employee". The way she held herself. Prim. Proper. Innocent. She was practically a kink on her own. Even _without_ the title of War Heroine and Golden Girl. 

And the way she  _ stared _ . First at the players in the great room, then at Pansy and Theo. And the way she sought _him_ out as she paddled someone for the first time. He had watched her all night. She was eager that much was clear. But she was also inexperienced. Someone would take advantage. He _ wanted  _ to take advantage. To see how much of her heated gaze was idle fantasy and how much was true desire. 

He ruffled a hand through his hair. Maybe he could call Pansy back to sit with her. He doubted that she wanted  _ his _ company tonight.  He walked to the doorway and a shaky voice called out behind him. "Malfoy!"

His shoulders went rigid and he faced away from her, unmoving. Maybe she needed directions to get out.  He heard a deep breath and a choked sound, "Never have I ever been spanked." Her voice sounded so eager. So needy. It stirred things deep inside his belly. The desire to explore. To claim. To protect. He felt the tension rolled off him in waves, and he opened and closed his fists to work off the desire to wrap his hands around her and take her somewhere. He took a deep breath and he slowly turned to look at her. 

“That’s not exactly surprising, Granger. You’ve probably never needed to be punished in your life.” The image of her prim and proper, poised on the edge of the couch, in the great hall back at Hogwarts, on the cover of the prophet year after year flooded his mind. The familiar urge to see her undone, knocked down from her perfection, gripped him. He shook it away and cocked his head to the side. 

“Were you still intending to play the game?” Maybe she was looking for a reason for him to stay. He scoffed internally - maybe he was the only company available at the moment. 

He watched Hermione look at her feet, “Not exactly.” He studied her. She was fidgeting. An idea rose with a warmth across the back of his skull. Maybe she... actually wanted to play?

He strode up to her, expanding his stride, and using the full length of his legs. He stepped close and stood tall and straight, imposing on her space. He towered over her small frame and she craned her neck to look up at him, biting her lip. Her calves pressed back against the couch, and he tried to trap her slightly. Not enough that she couldn't escape, but enough to threaten. She was heated, with a lovely red flush across her cheeks, and warmth radiated from her chest in the small space left between them. He widened his stance, trying to block her vision to anything but him. 

He slowly raised his hand to her face, giving her the chance to protest. Her skin was creamy, and looked so smooth. He wanted to run his lips across it to see if it felt as velvety as it looked. He cupped her jaw and rested his thumb on her lower lip. It was full and red, flushed with blood from her nibbling it the entire night. She had a habit of chewing it as she stared at the players - a sign of desire, and maybe a bit of nerves. He dragged his thumb across it and pulled it from between her teeth. 

“If you want something, I need you to ask for it. Explicitly.” He spoke low and slow. He thought maybe this is what she wanted. An experience. A one off. Someone to fulfill a fantasy. Others had approached him before. He was a marked man, after all. A reformed death eater. A way to get a taste of danger, but never  _ too _ much. Hiding his dark mark had stopped most of the blatant requests, but some that knew his history still approached. He usually declined but…. the chance to see her perfect persona come undone was a temptation.

Her breath ghosted along his thumb. He could see her pulse jumping in her throat. He could see the wheels turning in her mind behind her amber eyes. Little flecks of gold were surrounded by a chocolate rim.

He could stay like this. On the edge of possibility as her eyes searched his. He would be the best one to do this for her. He knew her. He recognized her stubbornness and her strength from Hogwarts. He knew he could break it down in her like no one else here could. But he could also keep her safe. He would know when it became too much for her. He knew the sounds she made in true pain. An image of her stretched on his drawing room floor, screaming flashed before his eyes and he quickly boxed it away. He shoved the memory aside as he gazed into her eyes. 

She licked her lips, tongue lightly brushing his thumb, and her grey eyes darkened. Her decision was made. 

“Will you spank me?”

It felt like a dam breaking . All of the tension between them released at once. He grabbed her hip with his free hand and spun them, sitting on the couch. He pulled her into his lap and she yelped.

He leaned into her, pressing his face into her neck and hair. She smelled sweet, floral and vanilla. “I’m going to touch you now.” He said, lowly, rubbing a small circle above her knee with his thumb. Her skin was so soft, and his thumb pressed a little dimple into her flesh. He wanted to leave a mark there. Permanent evidence that he imprinted himself on Hermione Granger. 

He murmured into her ear, “Yellow for slow down. Red for Stop. Green for keep going.” She nodded. “Lift your skirt,” He ordered. 

She reached for the hem and shimmied slightly, hiking the fabric up a bit, and exposing her upper thigh. He gave a low chuckle. That wouldn’t do at all. He grabbed her hip and rolled her, to lean across his lap, angling his legs, so her torso was supported by the couch. She gasped as he felt his hand on the back of her thigh, and he pushed her skirt up further, around her waist, exposing her simple black knickers. 

He would have imagined her in white. But the black knickers fit this new Hermione he had discovered. A mix of innocence and carnal curiosity. Perfect. He gazed at her pert ass, absorbed. She had always been striking, but now... she was so beautiful like this. He felt her breathing quicken as she looked back at him. She watched as he openly admired her, and he skimmed a hand lightly across the dark cloth. 

“I’m going to spank you with my hand five times. I want you to count with each one.”

She bit her lip and nodded, facing forward and tucking her head between her arms. He felt her hold her breath.

She jumped with the first smack, letting out a little puff of air. He had surprised her. His palm landed in the middle of her ass, across both cheeks. “One!” She said breathily. He felt her fingers twitch as she fought the urge to reach back and rub away the sting. 

He landed a second smack on her left cheek, slightly harder than the first. She gripped the cushion with her fingertips. “Two.” She said, muffled. He didn’t want her quiet. He wanted everyone in the club to know what he was doing to her. He wanted everyone to see that for tonight, she was his. 

He gave the next two in quick succession - her right and then her left cheek again. A gentle warmth bloomed across her ass, and she shuddered beneath him. She turned her head to face him. He could barely see her eyes hidden beneath her arm, but he could hear her more clearly now. “Three and four.” She hissed and satisfaction rolled down his spine. 

He hesitated on the last blow. Prolonging the moment. “How are you doing, Granger?” Malfoy whispered quietly to her. 

“Green.” She exhaled. It sounded like a sigh.

He waited another moment, anticipating the last blow. He wanted to savor it. He shifted slightly, aiming low, knowing it would sting, and his palm landed across the junction of her thighs. She tensed and her back bowed with the ache of it, but he kept his palm in place, warming her and soothing it away. She clenched her thighs together beneath him - “Five.” She let out in a breath. He had promised five, but he didn’t want to stop. His hand stroked gentle circles across her heated skin. Touching her while he could. 

She had been so controlled. So strong. Practically stoic as he spanked her. He wanted to try again. Another five. Ten. Twenty. He wanted her to shout his name, and moan for him. He wanted her to kick, and squirm and he wanted to hold her across his lap until she begged him. He soothed her skin, watching as the red of her skin started to fade. But he had promised five, so he prepared to release her. 

“Was that everything you expected?” He asked her, subdued. Resigned to letting her go. She pressed her eyes together tightly. “It was more.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him, and his hand stuttered in its circle, missing a beat. She made no move to get up.

“Would you like to… Again I mean? Do you want-?” She cut him off eagerly, “Green. Please Merlin, green, green, green, green.” She had liked it. She wanted  _ more _ . His heart soared. 

He slid his hand to the top hem of her knickers. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes, please.” She whispered.

He nudged a finger under the hem and ran his fingertip lightly across, feeling her skin. Goosebumps arose across arms and she shivered. 

He hooked his fingers in the sides, and slid them down her legs, past her ankles. He balled them up and slipped them into his trouser pocket. 

He pressed both thumbs into her exposed cheeks and massaged lightly. Her skin was a light pink, and slightly warm. As he spread his fingers apart he got the barest glimpse of her core. He itched to touch her there. He released her to avoid the temptation. “You don’t need to count now, but tell me where you’re at. You can stop or slow this down at any time.”

“Okay.” She said simply. She smiled back at him.

He spanked her again, this time watching his handprint appear on her pretty skin. He admired the shape of it for a moment. His mark. She shuddered. The next strikes were lighter but faster, coming in rapid succession. He spread them across her whole ass, pinking her skin from the top of her split to the crease of her thighs. His hand was warm. 

She squirmed slightly in his grip, panting, and he smirked. Her composure was breaking. 

“Tell me how you are, Granger.”

“Green!” She gasped and pressed herself backwards, into his hands. He accommodated, and struck her harder. Over and over and over again. One after the other, in a steady rhythm. Her skin turning red. She bounced slightly as he spanked her and she rolled her hips with his rhythm. He imagined fucking her like this - how she would clench around him each time he made contact. “You. are. Divine.” He punctuated each word with a slap. She keened at his praise and he smiled. So that was the key. 

“You’re doing so well.” A hard slap and she moaned wordlessly. The sound was heavenly. Her curls fanned around her head, growing wild, and she clawed at the couch. She was coming undone so prettily. Her chest was heaving in great gasps with each smack. Small purple splotches began to appear across her skin, and he wondered how much more she could take. He checked in with her, “Can you be my good girl? Can you take some more for me?” She arched her back straining up at him. “Yessss. Green” She hissed. 

He hit the crease of her thighs. Light, but firm and he focused on marking her skin with the shape of his palm. He wanted it to last. He struck the same spot, repeatedly. Her legs kicked reflexively, and he held her down with one arm across her thighs. She began to chant with each contact. Slap. “Green.” Slap. “Green”. Slap. “Green”. She said it like a prayer. 

The purple hand prints on her skin began to deepen and he slowed his strikes. His palm was tingling. He knew it had to hurt, but she was doing so well for him. She was going to be sore. Very sore. It was time to stop. A final light smack, to the middle of her ass, the same place he started. He left his hand there and skimmed it over her skin. She was absolutely radiating heat. She pressed back into his hand and whined. 

“Please,” She begged him. “Don’t stop.” He looked her in the eyes and they were slightly glazed. She looked drunk on him and he shushed her gently. 

“Shhhh, it's time to stop now. You did so well, sweet girl. You were perfect. So good.” She glowed with the praise, and tried to curl into him, nuzzling his side. She flinched as the edge of her marks brushed his trousers. “Would you like me to heal you?” He asked gently. She shook her head violently. 

He adjusted her and picked up his wand from the couch beside them. He summoned his bag. A silver M was embossed in the leather. He pulled out an unmarked jar and began to rub the cream inside gently into her skin. He felt the fire beneath his hand slowly cool, and she sighed.  She was going boneless in his arms, coming down off the high of her endorphins. He needed to get her home before she fell asleep here. 

He pulled her skirt down from around her waist, smoothing it down her legs. He stood with her in his arms and she curled into his chest. He walked out of the seating area, and into the great room. Pansy eyed him from a loveseat across the room. Theo was curled with his head in her lap and she carded through his hair. He nodded at her and she smirked at him, satisfaction written across her features. 

Draco turned down a darkened hallway and walked to the end. An attendant opened the door and he walked into the small room containing a single fireplace. He sat Hermione gently on her feet, and held her delicate shoulders. She felt so breakable now and he pulled her close to him, enjoying the feel of her for a final moment. He stroked his fingers down her back. “Can you stand?” She nodded, and he leaned her against the wall. He searched the mantle for the small pot of floo powder and returned to her. 

“You need to go home now. Can you do that?” She nodded again and looked up at him, searching his face with half lidded eyes. “Go straight to bed when you get there.” She took the floo powder from him. And walked a little more steadily, into the floo. She turned and faced him. “Thank you Malfoy.” She smiled at him, and her dazed glow warmed him to his toes. 

She disappeared with a flash. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for weekly updates....I couldn't help myself -- I finished this early and had to share it!


	3. Ask and Receive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated for this chapter!

Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at her ceiling. She felt loose and relaxed. She had slept better than she could remember in weeks. She stretched her arms above her head, arched her back, and curled her toes. She was...tender. Like the day after a hard workout. It had been a long time since she had a reason to push her body. And a long time since her mind had felt this clear. It felt good. She felt alive.

A gentle tap came from her window, and she glanced over. A small brown owl sat on the sill and tapped on the glass. Hermione tossed her blanket off, and stood, a bit stiffly. She would need a good stretch later. She opened the window and the owl hooted indignantly. The sun was on the wrong side of the sky. It was afternoon. There was a host of droppings on the outer sill. The poor thing had been there for a while. It held out its leg and she removed a small package and letter. She handed the owl several treats to make up for its long wait. It gave her a look that said she wasn’t entirely forgiven and nipped her finger punishingly before flying off. 

Hermione closed her window and stuck her finger in her mouth, sucking on the wound. She walked to the bathroom, carrying her package and set it on the counter, before turning on the shower to warm. Her hair was wild in her reflection. She had tumbled into bed the night before without taming it, and it had only gotten worse in her sleep. She unzipped her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse, sliding both to a pile on the floor. They were already hopelessly wrinkled.

She unwrapped the small package first - a small, clear jar filled with cream. The image of Malfoy’s long, elegant fingers, rubbing cream into her heated skin flashed across her vision. She quickly tore open the letter.

_ This should help with the bruising. Apply every 12 hours.  _

__ _ -D.M. _

She flipped the letter over, hoping for more on the back. It was blank. 

She turned to look at her backside to evaluate herself in the mirror and gasped. Her ass was covered in deep purple bruises. A nebula of purple in random patterns. Just below, at the crease of her thigh was a clearly defined handprint. She traced the outline of Malfoy's fingers on her skin. She liked having his mark on her. A physical reminder of her experience. 

After a quick shower, and a thick layer of cream, Hermione lay on her couch on her stomach. Sitting was unexpectedly uncomfortable and there wasn’t much she could do laying down. She flipped through the pages of a case file for Monday but found her focus drifting repeatedly. 

She laid her head down on her forearms. She felt giddy. She pressed the back of her hand to her flushed cheek. All she could focus on, was when she could go back. It was everything she was hoping for. The fog of apathy she was living under had been lifted. She wasn’t the golden girl. She didn’t have to be polished and in charge. Her inexperience wasn’t a disappointment to everyone looking at her for answers. She wasn’t the stuck up ministry employee. She wasn’t an authority - she just  _ was _ . It was...freeing. 

She slapped the case file closed. The clarity was addictive. She wanted to go back. She wanted to go back  _ soon _ . There was one problem. She still needed a sponsor. Her first thought was to owl Malfoy, immediately. But she hesitated. Malfoy had been…. unexpected. He was stone faced. Controlled. Bloody Amazing. But she doubted he wanted her following him around the club constantly. He might feel obligated to stay with her, and he was clearly well liked. He probably had several women lined up to spank on the weekends. She cringed. She couldn’t believe she had just added herself to his list. 

Hermione tapped her finger on the folder. Perhaps Pansy? As unofficial liaison, she probably sponsored loads of people. She rifled through the folder and pulled out a scrap of blank parchment. She scribbled a quick note, asking to meet. She stood quickly, straightened her clothes, and apparated to Diagon Alley to rent an owl. 

Hermione tied her note to the public owl and exited the owlery, with it on her arm. She released it and it stayed low, landing outside Florean Fortescue's a few stores down. She walked up and frowned at it. 

“That's not Pansy Parkinson’s house.” She scolded at the thing, picking it up.

“Talking to owls now? I thought you’d gone off the bend showing up yesterday, but now I  _ know _ you have.” Hermione whirled and saw Theo sitting at a little cafe table. She turned her frown from the bird to him. 

The door opened behind her and a bell jingled. “You’re blocking the door, Granger.” Hermione whirled again to see Pansy, exiting with two towering cones of ice cream. 

The owl hopped off Hermione’s arm and landed on Pansy’s shoulder, holding out its leg. Pansy glanced at it, then looked back to Hermione. “Looking for me?”

Hermione shuffled her feet awkwardly and followed Pansy to the table. Pansy handed Theo a cone and pulled the note from the owl's leg. She gave it a few peanuts from the top of her cone, and opened it, ignoring Hermione standing next to her. 

Hermione smiled sheepishly. “I was hoping I could talk with you for a second.” Pansy looked at her, taking a long, slow, lingering lick from her ice cream. She raised an eyebrow. 

“I was wondering if maybe you could sponsor me? So I could go back to-” She paused, looking around, worried they would be overheard, “So I could go back to you-know-where?” She looked at her hopefully. 

Pansy surveyed her, cooly. “I assumed Malfoy was your sponsor.” She glanced at Hermione, standing beside them, to the metal cafe chair. She had a  mischievous grin . “Why don’t you sit with us for a while?” Hermione looked at the chair apprehensively. It looked very hard. She pulled the chair out gingerly and sat down, wincing. 

Hermione looked down at her hands and answered Pansy’s unasked question, “I… hadn’t asked him. I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” Pansy looked at her sharply. "But you presumed to ask me?" She clicked a long nail on the table. “As it stands, I won’t sponsor you.” 

Hermione’s heart fell, and she sagged back against her chair. Of course, Pansy probably fielded these requests all the time. She didn’t want to babysit her any more than Draco would. She had Theo to consider. She looked up at him and saw him watching her, considering her intently. 

He hadn’t spoken since she had sat down, but he was following their conversation closely. His ice cream, slowly melting and dripping down the cone towards his fingers. He held eye contact with her as he licked it at the last minute, cleaning the sides, before they stickied his hand. She gulped. 

“I find-” He said slowly. “-That if I ask for exactly what I want-,” He swiped his finger up the side of the cone, collecting a pool of melted cream. “-I am much more likely to get it.” He held the finger out to Pansy, and she leaned over to him, mouth open, then paused. He leaned into her, “Clean me up, please?” Pansy closed her lips around his finger and sucked, deeply, hollowing her cheeks. He made a low sound deep in his throat. 

Hermione watched, entranced, then quickly averted her eyes when she realized she was staring, as Pansy shifted her attention back to her. “They have public classes every other week at 5 pm on Sundays. Malfoy will be there tonight. I suggest you ask him for what you want.” Hermione swallowed and nodded. 

She sat for a moment, and Pansy prompted her. “Granger. It's 5:05.”

“Oh!” Hermione leapt up, and pushed back from the table, nearly knocking over her chair in her haste. “Thank you, Pansy. And Theo. I, Um. Just- Thank you,” She turned on the spot and disapperated. 

  
  


________________________________________________

Hermione appeared in front of the large white, nondescript building and practically ran to the door. The door handle was present, and she flung the door open, hurrying inside. The table and cabinet were gone and the curtain blocking the rooms beyond was pulled back. There was a table set up in the back of the great room, with a bench pulled beside it. Several chairs and loveseats surrounded the table in an imitation of a classroom. 

The group turned to look at her as she scurried inside. She sat primly on the edge of the cushiest available chair and faced forward, doing her best imitation of “Not late” she could manage. 

“So nice of you to join us,” drawled from the front of the room. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. Pansy said he would be here, but she failed to mention he was the  _ instructor _ . She flushed and stammered out an apology. He smirked at her from the front of the room. This was a  _ terrible _ idea. 

“As I was saying - cupping is an ancient technique that was relatively recently co-opted. It leaves distinctive circular marks on the skin and can be incorporated into a variety of sensation play. There are several methods, each taking a various level of skill.” He gestured to the table and some strange domed devices. His sleeves were rolled up again, his forearms exposed. Hermione licked her lips.

“The plastic, screw topped variety are the easiest and most intuitive to control. There are also pneumatic-” He held up a cup with a valve and some sort of handheld pump, “and fire cups.” He held up what looked like a small glass globe. His long fingers wrapped around each object as he held them up. His hands looked large and strong, like he could break the glass with ease. She shivered, remembering just how forceful they could be. And how gentle. 

“Fire cupping carries the added risk of burns and broken glass, so it's best to perform this with an experienced practitioner on hand.” Listening to him lecture was unfairly erotic. His drawl was soothing to listen to, and she remembered the sound of his voice in her ear the night before. Praising her. Telling her how good she was. How perfect. The memory raised goosebumps on her skin, and she shuddered. 

“To really understand these, it's best to see a practical demonstration. Would anyone be willing to volunteer?” She shot her hand up in the air eagerly, dancing at the edge of her chair. He made eye contact with her and a laugh bubbled out of him. He shook his head and crooked his finger at her, calling her to the front. She slowly stood and walked forward, feeling everyone’s eyes on her. 

He held his hand out to her and she took it, he pulled her in close and chuckled into her ear. “You never could resist volunteering for everything back at Hogwarts either.” She fluttered her eyes up at him, “What can I say? I’m a teacher’s pet.” He laughed again, and ran his hand over her arm, up to her shoulder, and guided her towards the table. 

She swallowed nervously as she looked at the strange tools. She wasn’t exactly sure what she had volunteered for. She picked up a globe and looked at it more closely. The opening was a bit smaller than her palm and it felt cool in her hand. “Where exactly do these go?” she asked curiously. He answered her question loudly for the group. “These cups can go anywhere that has a large flat expanse of skin. Generally that means the torso, the back and breasts being a favorite. But they can also be placed on the buttocks, and arms and legs, as long as a seal can be made. These are some of the largest cups used regularly, but the diameter can be as small as a pinky nail.”

He looked down at her and spoke quietly, privately. “Generally I use the back for demos, but you’ll need to remove your shirt. Is that okay with you?” She glanced at the group and bit her lip. She could do this. It was practically academic, she told herself. Educational. She nodded at him. 

He directed her to the bench and she climbed onto it, facing the audience. She placed a leg on either side, onto the padded cushions, and carefully unbuttoned her shirt. She folded it in half carefully and Draco took it from her, draping it over an empty chair in the front row. She leaned forward, pressing her chest onto the center of the bench. She reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra, slipping the straps down her shoulders and pulling it off, her chest staying mostly concealed. Draco took it from her and carefully placed it under her shirt on the chair. Hermione smiled slightly at the action. How courteous. 

She brought her arms up and propped her chin on her hands so she could see. She watched as Malfoy approached her with the corkscrew style cup. He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. She felt him gently sweep her hair to one side and felt the brush of his thumb on the back of her neck. He leaned over her and spoke quietly, “Green, yellow, red. Same as last time.” She shivered in response. 

He placed the opening of the cup to the left of her shoulder blade and slowly twisted the corkscrew one turn. She felt a sort of suction as the muscle drew up into the cup. It felt… strange, but not unpleasant. He spoke to the class, "Cupping was initially used for therapeutic massage, and as such it isn’t inherently painful, but the sensation can be varied from light to intense.” He tightened the corkscrew another turn and she inhaled sharply. It was a strong pull. She took a deep breath, calming herself.

“The sensation becomes more dramatic the longer it is left on, and removal can be equally as painful, so it's careful to monitor your partner.” He left the cup in place, grabbing another off the table. He placed this one on her opposite shoulder, and tightened it. “The cups can also be moved along the skin.” He slowly dragged the cup down her shoulder. The movement felt nice, reminding her of a massage. She relaxed slightly into the feeling. 

“Moving them quickly, however, can be painful. The faster the movement, and the tighter the cup, the more intense it will be.” He glanced down at her, and tapped her shoulder three times. Was he asking permission? She nodded at him, “Green”. He jerked the cup down sharply and her entire body tensed. She gasped and squirmed. 

The path he had drawn on her right side ached and the spot on her left shoulder felt uncomfortably tense. She felt him run his hand over her skin, massaging. That felt better. The added sensations pulling her focus away from the discomfort. She felt his fingertips sweep down her spine and she arched slightly into the pleasant touch. The combination of pain and pleasure tingling across her skin. 

"The skin will be incredibly sensitive afterwards, which can be incorporated into either play or aftercare. Anything typically used for sensation play is a good follow up here. Pinwheels, feathers, light massage, and the like." He released the cup on her left shoulder with a sharp twist and she yelped. She winced as blood flowed out of the spot. He reached and released the second cup, and she clenched her hands. The spot pulsed in time with her heartbeat and she groaned softly. He was right, leaving them in place  _ did  _ hurt. 

His fingers traced featherlight over her skin. She shuddered. His touch felt electric. The skin of her back so sensitive she could feel the air around her like a physical caress. 

Firm fingers massaged across her back and the pain turned to warmth. This part was quite pleasant. He ran his hands up her ribs and over the sensitive spots, then down along the center of her spine. It was heavenly. She sighed. 

“That was perfect. Thank you.” He whispered into her hair. She felt a little warm bubble swell in her chest. He walked over to her clothes and held them out to her. He pointed her to the hallway "There's a divider over there where you can get dressed again."

She smiled at him, and clutched her shirt to her chest, sitting up carefully. The air was cool on her skin and she became painfully aware of the fact that he was fully clothed while she was so exposed. She flushed and hurried behind the divider.

She reached behind herself to fasten her bra and winced, the band pressing on the sensitive marks. She considered for a moment, then removed it, shrinking it and shoving it in her pocket. She quickly buttoned up her shirt and hurried back to the class. 

She returned to her seat in the back and listened to Draco finish. Something about wet cupping and blood, and she shuddered unpleasantly, glad that, she wasn't part of this particular demonstration. She found herself drifting as he talked about advanced techniques and watching his hands as he talked. He was a polished speaker, each movement of his hands as he spoke was purposeful. Emphasizing his point with a practiced grace. He was relaxed in this role, and it was clear he was in control of the room. She wondered if he ever let that control slip. 

Several people around her stood and started moving chairs. The class had ended while she was watching Draco. She stood, levitated her chair into a group with the others, and looked towards the front. Draco was packing his bag, scourgifying each item carefully before returning it to a case. He smiled at her as she approached.

"Thank you for volunteering today. I appreciate your help." He said formally. He extended his hand and she shook it. His touch was firm and cool, and she let her hand linger across his palm. 

"Would you like to be added to the owling list? I usually send out notice of the topic a week ahead of time." He had a questioning lilt to his voice. He probably was wondering what she wanted. Why she was still hanging around. 

She took a deep breath, Theo and Pansy's words echoing in her mind.  _ Ask him for what you want. " _ That would be great, thank you. But I actually came here originally to ask you something." She held her chin high, projecting a confidence she didn't feel. 

"Would you be willing to sponsor me? I would like to come back, but I can't return without a sponsor." She rushed a bit, nervously, and cursed herself.

A slow grin spread across his face and he looked at her wickedly. "Hermione Granger wants to come back to the kink club." His eyes sparkled at her. He was teasing, but she felt like she was back at Hogwarts. Draco making fun of her bushy hair. Her teeth. Her books. She flushed, mortified. Of course he wouldn't want to. Yesterday was a one off. Today she had practically thrown herself at him. She looked to her feet and stammered, "Nevermind. I don't- I mean, you don't - I can find someone else." 

His smile dropped and he looked at her seriously. He stepped into her, and entrapped her hip with a firm grasp. He reached another hand to her jaw and lifted it, until she met his eyes. She felt like she was drowning in the gray waters staring back at her. "I only sponsor someone I'm playing with." Her breath caught, heart falling. 

_ Ask for what you want _ . "I would-- like to play with you. If you want to?" She whispered and bit her lip, steeling herself against his rejection. 

His slow smile reappeared and he plucked her lip from between her teeth. "Oh, Granger. I thought you'd never ask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mild chapter, but some fun things are in store!
> 
> A minor side note - I have nothing against wet cupping personally, but I imagine Hermione would have an aversion to it. No judgement here if that's your thing!


End file.
